


Safe From the Cold

by rahelawriter



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst, Brief Vomit Mention, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Torture, Post-2.55, murder mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:49:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rahelawriter/pseuds/rahelawriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Warrior of Light had successfully escaped Ul'dah to Camp Dragonhead, but she didn't make it out unscathed. Injured, exhausted, and utterly defeated, Haurchefant provides some much-needed comfort and security.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe From the Cold

**Author's Note:**

> (Takes place in a slightly different continuity from my last fanfic)
> 
> This story does contain triggering material, but there's only mentions of it, and they only happen in flashbacks.

‘ _I’ve been authorized to utilize any method of interrogation I see fit. But, out of respect for our previous dealings, I’ll give you one more chance to confess; I’d prefer not to cause you more pain than necessary.’_

_He says this after he broke her arm._

_Rahela’s already trembling madly in pain, and in fear. Gods, everything ached. Ilberd’s ‘interrogation’ had consisted of him mercilessly beating her and demanding that she confess to poisoning Nanamo. She could feel bruises forming where he’d kicked and punched her; her face, stomach, legs, arms… Everything hurt, but the fear and helplessness dwarfed all else. Even though she had gone toe-to-claw with a monstrous dragon more colossal than even the tallest spires of Ishgard and won only days before, the betrayal suffered at the hands of the Crystal Brave captain, someone she’d thought to be a friend and ally, was at this moment more terrifying than Nidhogg himself. Paralyzed by the foul-tasting potion that had been forced down her throat, she could only watch in terror as Ilberd knelt down over her, roughly grabbed her by the nape, and lifted her off the floor to his level, his eyes cold and indifferent._

_‘Not saying anything? That won’t do any good, lass. I know how stubborn you are, but now’s not the time to withhold the truth; not even Roaille was this bad. Really, it pains me to see the vaunted, untouchable Warrior of Light reduced to this; a treacherous assassin pretending to be a victim, quivering beneath me as if she were some scared little kitten. You’ve been cornered and declawed, so you might as well confess your crimes. If you’re still going to be difficult, you’ll force me to resort to some extremely distasteful methods,’ Ilberd drew his face closer, squeezing the scruff of her neck even tighter, ‘And you’ll truly feel how vulnerable you are.’_

_The mage felt her stomach drop and her heart clench. He couldn’t mean that he would… No, no, this was just a bad dream. This can’t be happening! But even as she fumbled with her disbelief, the captain himself slowly broke into a sickening, twisted grin. ‘Rest assured, it’s nothing personal; unpleasant though they may be, I fear this may be the only method that might get you to talk. What say you, hero? It’d be easier for the both of us if you were just confess to your crimes right now.’_

_Panicked as she was, her limbs were heavy as lead, leaving her helpless to do anything but weakly struggle and try to twist herself out of his grasp. “No, no, I swear it wasn’t me, no, Ilberd, get away, please stop!”_

_‘Now, little kitten, if you’re going to be like that, I really will have to…’_

_“Get your hands off me!”_

“Rahela…?”

“NO!”

“Rahela, please wake up!”

With a sharp gasp, W’rahela Uillces’ eyes flew open and the vision of Ilberd lifted away, replaced with only darkness and a nearby dim fire; but the mage could still feel the presence of a heavy weight leaning over her. Not registering who else it could be, Rahela thrashed frantically with her good arm to swat the assailant away. “No, get- _get away from me!_ ”

Immediately on command, the figure stood up and backed away. But when it spoke again in a low yet gentle, clear and unmistakeable voice, the miqo’te realized her error. “Rahela? Are you alright?”

“H-Haurchefant…” After several deep breaths, the Warrior of Light managed to regain something resembling composure. For a moment she’d forgotten; she and the few comrades she had left had just begun living temporarily in Camp Dragonhead earlier that night. After the few remaining Scions had come to the joint decision that they would go to Ishgard once entry into the city was permitted, the injured miqo’te was hurried off to the infirmary to have her broken arm mended and strapped into a brace; once that was done, she, Alphinaud, and Tataru were given a room and promptly went to sleep, none really in the mood for any more talking. Eyes adjusting to the darkness, Rahela could vaguely spot them across the room, sound asleep in their own beds, both likely too exhausted to be having the same nightmares as her. Looking back to the knight, she nodded. “Y-yes, I’m alright. Forgive me, i-it was just, just a bad dream.”

Lord Haurchefant knelt down beside the bed, clothed not in his usual knightly armor, but instead a simple long-sleeved tunic and trousers. He spoke quietly and hesitantly, audibly concerned. “Pray forgive my intrusion. There’s a good deal of work that needs to be done in preparation for the capital’s defense, but I feared something like this might occur. So I thought it best to keep vigil just outside.” Gesturing to the paper-strewn table in front of the fireplace on the other side of the movable wooden partition, Haurchefant went on, “And sure enough, I heard you talking in your sleep, and what I heard was… disquieting, to say the least.”

It took a moment for this to sink in, but the moment it did, Rah groaned and buried her face in her hand. “What exactly did you hear?”

He shook his head. “I dare not repeat it.” Another few moments of silence. “Rahela… I’m sorry if this is painful to recall, but I must ask… Your arm… Did Captain Ilberd do that to you?”

She hesitated for a moment but then nodded, looking away to stare at nothing. It _was_ painful to think about. It had only been a few hours, after all. And yet she still recounted her tale. “Watching Nanamo die, hearing Teledji Adeledji’s accusations, being surrounded by the Brass Blades with no way out… I was overwhelmed by grief, fear, panic, it was all too much. I fainted. When I woke up, I couldn’t move, my staff was gone, and Ilberd was standing over me, demanding that I confess to killing the sultana. When I refused, he broke my arm. And when I still refused to talk, he threatened to do even worse. And he could have. Hells, he was going to! And I would’ve been powerless to stop him!” She spoke with growing disgust at herself, her fists clenching with anger, ashamed that she let it happen. “The only reason he didn’t go that far was because he was interrupted by one of his underlings bursting into the room, talking about the evidence that was planted on me. After that, I was force-fed a silencing potion so I couldn’t cast spells or protest my innocence, and finally dragged into the Fragrant Chamber. And then--” Rahela heard her voice break, forcing herself to remember. What happened to Raubahn, Papalymo, Yda, Y’shtola, Thancred, and finally Minfilia… It was too much. Remembering how she was forced into leaving her family behind the way she did was enough to send tears dripping from her eyes, and a choked sob escaped her throat of its own accord. And now only adding to the shame was the fact that Haurchefant learned how weak she had been. He’d admired the Warrior of Light for her power and determination more than most others…

Rah couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze, but Haurchefant had been listening with ever-increasing horror. He’d heard a summary of the events from Alphinaud, and yet to hear the woman herself tell it… The knight had agreed to take in the Warrior of Light and her allies without a second thought; simply doing what he believed any good friend should, setting aside space for them, making them feel safe and welcomed, and cheerfully assuring them that their circumstances would get better. ‘My home is your home,’ he told her. And he of course meant it. Yet now he began to worry that perhaps he’d been a bit too chipper about this whole situation. Recalling the conversation in the war room, how his voice dripped with smugness, Haurchefant barely bothered to conceal his delight at the irony of the situation; that one of the most inhospitable lands in Eorzea had now become the safest. As if it were some game of hide-and-seek. Granted, it had only been a few hours, but he had not yet given much consideration to the whole extent of his friends’ trauma, and what would happen to Rahela especially were she to be recaptured… Realizing the full weight of what she and the others were so afraid of, it frightened him too. What she described was a torture beyond what all but the most ruthless of Inquisitors could inflict. Just to hear it filled him with dread, quickly followed by a steadily-building outrage. That a valiant hero like her should be framed for such a heinous crime and treated so shamefully, reduced to fleeing for her life and seeking shelter in a frozen, lonely wasteland… Every knightly instinct within him demanded that he storm off, sword and shield in hand, all the way to Ul’dah, give those desert wretches a taste of justice to defend his dear friend’s honor…

But as tempting as it was, as much as his teeth gnashed and his fists clenched on her behalf, it wasn’t his honor to reclaim, not his revenge to take. Though she likely felt that way right now, Rahela was by no means some damsel in distress who needed a knight in shining armor to fight her battles for her; but what she did need was time, support, and protection in order to heal from wounds inflicted upon her, both emotional and physical. Broken and bruised and betrayed as she was, he, of all people, had been the one she’d chosen over anyone else to seek sanctuary. And _by the Fury,_ he would be the one to give it to her.

Eventually, Rahela brought herself to look back at her friend; she couldn’t see his face in the dark, but she felt him gingerly place a hand on her shoulder, and his voice when he finally spoke again was filled with sorrow. “Oh, my dear friend, I’m so sorry…” His hand twitched, as though he were hesitating to move it, but when he didn’t sense the mage recoiling from his touch, (she herself was surprised at that) he slowly drew himself up to sit upon her bedside and wind an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a careful hug. “But please, listen. What befell you and your companions in Ul’dah was not your fault; it was nobody's fault but the traitors’ and the schemers’. And you’ve no more reason to fear them now. It is as I’ve said before; you are not without allies. I shall personally see to it that you have a home safe within the walls of Ishgard, far, _far_ from the reach of your would-be captors.”

“I can’t hide forever,” the seeker muttered. “I’ll have to face Ilberd and the Crystal Braves sooner or later, I just know it. But when I do, what if I just, freeze up, remembering what he tried to--”

“Don’t think about that now,” The knight gently scolded, stroking her hair. “I’m certain you _shall_ face them eventually when the time is right. And I’m doubly certain you’ll _win_. But until you’re sure that you’re ready to do so, you must focus on healing; both emotionally and physically. Until then, I will see to it that no harm comes to you.” Haurchefant stood up and knelt beside Rahela, taking her small hand with both of his, and gazing straight into her tired eyes, he said, with the all the sincerity with which he took his first vows, “I swear upon my honor as a knight, I will protect you with my life.”

Rahela dully stared at the knight, this solemn oath leaving her speechless. Even when he immediately agreed to take her in, as grateful as she was, she still wasn’t wholly convinced that Haurchefant’s support truly was as unconditional as he said it was. Though she’d never doubt that he spoke in earnest, the mage feared what would happen if he or any Ishgardian were to learn of the ‘pact’ that Midgardsormr had forced upon her. ‘ _He would harbor an assassin,_ ’ she thought, ‘ _but not a heretic_.’ But hearing him now, feeling his calming, gentle touch… He’d keep this promise; he’d die before he would turn his back on her. Rahela was finally sure that she could trust him now. Mere hours ago, the Warrior of Light was at her absolute low, betrayed, abandoned, and utterly alone. But now, though it took considerable effort, she was able to manage a weak, but grateful smile for her new protector. “Thank you, Haurchefant. That means more than you know.”

And Haurchefant returned it in kind, reaching a hand up to ruffle her hair. “There’s that smile. Now, it goes without saying that you need your rest, so you ought to at least try to get some sleep. I shall return to my work just outside, if you need me.”

“No, it’s alright, I’m awake,” Rahela replied, shaking her head and shifting to the edge of the bed so she could stand up.

“Do you need anything? Are you hungry or thirsty?” The knight asks, helping her rise from the bed. She nodded, prompting him to go on, exiting the room as he spoke, gesturing for Rah to follow. “The kitchen is but a few steps away, so I’ll get you anything you like.”

“Thank you.” Rahela sat down at a chair by the table in front of the fireplace, taking care not to disturb the paperwork. She was half-lying when she nodded earlier; she didn’t have much of an appetite at the moment, and likely wouldn’t for awhile. But she hadn’t eaten anything at the banquet, and she’d expelled Ilberd’s two paralyzing and silencing potions (if that sickening swill counted as something to drink) from her stomach once she’d escaped the Sil’dihn water tunnel. So as much as her belly said otherwise, she had to put something in it. “Nothing too complicated, though. Perhaps just some bread. Or, do you have hardtack here? I’ve never tried it.”

By now Haurchefant had knelt down to rummage through the pantry for some bread, but at Rahela’s last suggestion he turned back to face her with a grimace. “Rah, I know I said anything, but I’ll not subject you to eating hardtack. But we do have plenty of bread. Anything you’d like to drink? We have water, wine--”

The mere mention of wine was enough to make her twinge. “ _Water_ ,” the miqo’te insisted.

Within seconds he’d retrieved a roll of knights bread and a glass bottle of water. “There you go,” he said. He then sat down on the chair across from hers and resumed his work.

The two sat in silence, with little sound but the crackling of the fire, his quill hurriedly scratching words against the paper, and Tataru’s snoring from the next room. Rahela nibbled at the slightly sweet bread and took slow sips of the cold water, watching Haurchefant at work. Watching him signing forms, filling out requests for supplies, maybe writing missives to the other outposts. The miqo’te thought several times to break the silence and initiate conversation, but decided against distracting him any further. As it was, with Ishgard recovering from two consecutive, deadly Dravanian assaults, it was surprising that he had any time to spare for her at all. Maybe she ought to just go back to bed. But if she did, she might have more nightmares…

“Rah?” The knight’s lilting voice recaptured her attention, and she looked up to see he’d opened a blank piece of parchment in front of him. “Pardon me for asking this out of nowhere, but is there anyone you’d like me to contact on your behalf? Any relatives or friends who might be fearful for your whereabouts?”

The miqo’te’s ears flicked in surprise. It felt like a lifetime ago since she’d been in any sort of contact with her birth family… “Hmm… Yes, actually. My sister’s an adventurer, too, but she was out of Eorzea when I last heard from her. But there's my mother, she's a blacksmith in my home village… The last time I wrote to her was to ask her to come visit me in Mor Dhona. I wanted her to see where I was living, to meet the Scions, maybe get a job at the Ironworks. But, Revenant's Toll isn't safe anymore, as long as the Crystal Braves have the run of the place.”

Haurchefant had already begun writing, but looked back up, brow furrowed in concern. “I see. So you fear the brutes might attempt to take her hostage?”

Rahela cringed to hear what she was afraid might happen; she didn’t want to think they would go that far, but… She nodded, and said, “Just tell her to stay away from Ul’dah and Revenant's Toll, and that whatever she might hear about me isn't true. And let her know I'm safe, but I can't say where.”

He smiled, reassuring her, “I will, worry not.” The knight wrote on for about a minute more, and he looked up again to ask, “And what is her name?”

“W’yulhia Ehvin.”

He nodded, and signed the name at the head of the missive. “I shall send this in the morning; it will have to be by postmoogle instead of courier. Less chance of interception that way.” The knight rolled up the parchment and tied it shut, ready to be sent. But he took note of his charge’s still-downcast expression; rising from his chair and walking to her side. “… But I’m loath to send you back to bed on such a somber note. Is there aught else you require?”

Rahela knew that Haurchefant was trying to cheer her up. And of course the effort was appreciated, but she doubted that anything really be of help. And though she really didn't want to go back to sleep, she couldn’t think of any other reason to stay up. Then at that moment she remembered seeing something curious earlier. Those mugs of frothy, steaming, chocolate-scented liquid had been prepared for her, Tataru, and Alphinaud to help soothe their nerves after their ordeal in Ul’dah; but without realizing it, they’d wound up accidentally ignoring the drinks in their subsequent settling in. “Actually, what was that drink you set out for us before, in the Intercessory? I never got to try it, but it smelled amazing.”

At this request, Haurchefant raised an eyebrow in a mixture of surprise and skepticism. “Hot chocolate? At this time of night? Dear friend, if I gave that to you, you’d be wide awake for hours! _You need your rest_.”

“Please, Haurchefant?” Rah pleaded, “I’ve never had it before, and I feel guilty about letting the last batch go to waste.”

The knight open his mouth to argue further, but a thought occurred to him. If she's never had hot chocolate before… Haurchefant could well recall the first time he had it; after a long, trying day, it’d been the best thing he’d ever tasted. So this might be just the thing to cheer her up. He was certainly no Medguistl, but Haurchefant would do his utmost to make Rahela smile.

“Very well, hot chocolate it is.”


End file.
